


A brand new game

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Dark and twisted Sterek [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Asshole Scott, BAMF Stiles, Complete, Dark, Dark Derek, Dark Stiles, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Fucked Up, Isaac just wants to be loved, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Manipulative Deaton, Nogitsune, Nogitsune Stiles, Oblivious Scott, Series, Stiles is Derek's Anchor, Twisted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The nogitsune never really left, but Stiles hasn't stopped trying to control the monster in his head, even if he wakes up screaming most mornings.</p>
<p>Even when he's managed to control the nogitsune and his power, Deaton and Scott still bind and restrict him. For the next three years, Stiles plays along with their game until he decides that he's ready to play his winning hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A brand new game

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to [Coffin](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1613882)

The nogitsune never really left. It was still a part of Stiles' mind, for all that they wished otherwise. He couldn't control it after they'd defeated it and caught the firefly; the nogitsune was old and had more control than Stiles did. But that didn't mean he didn't try. Every morning he woke up, forcing his screams into a pillow so it wouldn't wake and bring his father running as usual. Sometimes he was fast enough to muffle the noise, sometimes he wasn't. This morning he was, and after Stiles' scream had faded away into the sweat and saliva-soaked pillow, he turned onto his back, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

_You are mine, Zbigniew. You cannot escape and you cannot control me_ , the nogitsune whispered, phantom fingers stroking his skin.

He exhaled loudly, trying to drown out the nogitsune's words, and opened his eyes calmly a moment later. There was a gentle knock on his window, and Stiles sat up to see Derek waiting out on his windowsill.

"You could use the front door one day, you know. The neighbours might actually  **stop**  thinking that we're having some sort of scandalous affair," Stiles said, rolling his eyes and waving down at his next-door neighbour mockingly as Derek climbed inside.

"We're not dating other people for this to be classed as an affair, Stiles."

"While we're on that topic, what is  _this_?" Stiles asked, smirking.

"Whatever you want it to be for as long as you need," Derek replied.

"What about what you want?" Stiles asked, pressing his mouth against Derek's.

"You; only you," Derek murmured, his warm breath ghosting along Stiles' lips.

"If only everyone knew just how sweet you were to me, sourwolf. They'd probably have your sanity tested. Don't you know I'm uncontrollable?" Stiles asked, eyes wide and tone slightly mocking, but the words were enough to betray his true feelings about the whispered conversations he'd overheard between Scott and Deaton.

"You're in control now, and you'd never hurt me," Derek said certainly, even smiling, though it was a brief one.

"Of course not; you're mine," Stiles said, shaking his idea at the very thought of hurting Derek. "Huh... I've thought of an idea; let me try something on you?"

"What?" Derek asked warily.

"Just trust me and stand still. Oh, and make sure I don't leave the house, okay?"

"All right. What are you... Oh, fuck,  _Stiles!_ "

Derek's words kind of floated around him as Stiles closed his eyes and let the nogitsune take over. It came to consciousness with a chuckle, a low sound that echoed in the room and reverberated in Stiles' chest. Derek paled at the sight, taking a step forward and stopping, not sure what to do.

The nogitsune tilted his head to the side, watching Derek curiously and sizing him up. He'd taken Derek down before, but that was with momentum and an element of surprise; Derek knew his strength now and would accommodate accordingly. Once the werewolf was out of the way, Zbigniew's father would be next, then the Alpha that had repressed him, the screaming woman that had defied him, the kitsune and her offspring that had thought to defeat him, and then the rest of the town would follow into chaos.  _It would be perfect_.

_Oh, no you don't_ , Stiles' snarled response came suddenly. The nogitsune straightened in surprise as he was shoved back into the depths of Stiles' mind, screaming.

"What the fuck was that?!" Derek demanded the moment Stiles was aware again.

"I figured out how to control him," Stiles said, grinning broadly and not at all worried about the shortness of breath. "I did it; I worked it out, Derek! It's not me trying to  _defeat him_ ; it's me trying to keep  _you safe_."

Derek's angry expression faltered, and he softened as he pulled Stiles close. "You're my anchor, Stiles; you can't do shit like that without warning me. Scared the fuck out of me and my wolf," he admitted with a heavy sigh.

Stiles was still smiling when he pulled away five minutes later. "I've got to go see Scott and Deaton! They'll be so fucking proud when I tell them! No one will have to worry about me losing it and killing everyone," he added, doing a little jig of happiness.

"You might want to get dressed first, Stiles," Derek said, raising an eyebrow at his sweat-soaked pyjamas.

"Right, thanks."

An hour later, Stiles was clean, dressed, had eaten breakfast, and was on his way to the veterinary clinic to meet Deaton and Scott. He didn't think much on Scott's message to meet them there, assuming it was yet another training session. Being strapped down onto the examination table wasn't exactly what Stiles had pictured.

"Guys, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"We're helping you, Stiles. This is for the best; it's the only way to get control," Scott said, brushing some of Stiles' hair out of his face before going back over to Deaton.

"Wait, what? No, guys, you don't understand. I've got control! See, look!" Stiles said, starting to let the nogitsune through.

"Shit, Deaton, hurry up! He's losing control!" Scott yelled, his eyes red.

Deaton darted forward, slicing a thin line in Stiles' chest, then another on Scott's hand, pressing the two wounds together. Stuck as he was in a half transformation between his human self and the nogitsune, Stiles was bound to Scott that way, screaming for them to stop every second of the way.

Less than an hour passed for the spell to be complete, though to Stiles it felt like a year of excruciating pain, thousands of needles pressed into every inch of his body as he was bound to Scott unwillingly.

"Stiles? How do you feel?" Scott asked, looking down at him with wide eyes.

Stiles licked his lips, blinking a few times as he slowly adjusted to the dampened feeling of himself, of the nogitsune inside of him. Caught halfway between human and nogitsune, Stiles' mind felt as though it was caught in a vice, squeezing the two parts of him until pain was all he felt.

"Deaton? Is he okay?" Scott asked, looking up to his boss with a frown.

"It's a tiring process, Scott. Give him a few minutes more," Deaton said, though he moved to look down at Stiles as well.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped by a loud crash at the front door. Scott and Deaton hurried out, Stiles still strapped to the table. Everything felt different, smaller, constricted somehow. He had been a waterfall and now he was a trickle along the ground, not even enough to be called a stream.

"What did you do to him?!" Derek demanded, shoving past Scott and Deaton to get to the examination room. "Stiles, oh... fucking hell, Stiles. What've they done?" he asked, his voice breaking.

"It's fine, Derek! We've got him under control now. He won't do any more damage, and he won't hurt anyone else," Scott said firmly.

"He... his power! He was working on..."

"His power will return in time, with enough instruction and practice, and when it does, then Stiles' power will be controlled properly," Deaton added, not letting Derek finish. "For now, he's simply been restricted until Scott can control his own powers as Alpha properly. In fact, we're due for a training session now. Would you take Stiles home, Derek?"

"I... Okay," Derek said, looking pale and shocked. He grew his claws out, intending to cut the leather binds wrapped around Stiles' body.

"Wait. I just need to make sure. Stiles, can you hear me? Can you understand me?" Scott asked, looking down at him again.

Stiles nodded slowly. "Sure can, boss."

Scott breathed in relief and hugged him, though Stiles was still bound down. He and Deaton left a few minutes later, discussing training tactics, and Derek trembled slightly as he sliced the leather binds.

"Stiles? Is it... Is it still you?"

"A bit of both, actually," Stiles admitted, head tilting to the side as he gave Derek a grin. "Take me to your place? I don't think I should be left alone right now," he added with a small groan of pain, feeling too weak to stand on his own.

In his head, he could still hear the nogitsune screaming in pain, caught in a half-transformation. With the way he felt, Stiles wanted to scream along with him, his body swaying precariously as he stood up.

Derek immediately picked Stiles up and carried him out to the Jeep. He'd run from the Stilinski house to the veterinary clinic the minute he'd felt Stiles being cut and  _compressed_. Stiles fell asleep on the way to the loft, and though Derek wasn't tired, he climbed into bed beside Stiles and held him until they were both asleep.

...

Stiles dragged Derek out into the woods a few weeks later, the day after his first training session with Deaton and Scott. He'd been given a few books to read on magic, and Stiles had devoured the knowledge in one night. He needed more, but Deaton was still of the mindset to censor and restrict the knowledge Stiles was given - at least, for now. Still, Stiles was the primary researcher long before the nogitsune came along, and he knew a thing or two about finding reliable sources of information about witchcraft.

Before anything else though, Stiles needed something to help conduct his power. Most witches used symbolic wands or daggers, but Stiles wanted something bigger than that. It needed to be practical, not just symbolic, and while he could have used a wand or dagger, Stiles wanted something that screamed power. When he had his power again, he wanted to be respected for it.

Eventually, Stiles found his tree and asked Derek to knock a branch off for him. He did so without asking why, and then hefted it up onto his shoulder to take it back to the loft. That night, Stiles produced a set of knives and began carving into the branch carefully.

Months passed with Stiles learning magic at Deaton's pace during the day, carving his staff at night, and learning at his own pace in his spare time. He trawled through websites, books, even going so far as to ask Derek to bring him books from other towns. Finding out that he couldn't actually leave Beacon Hills was a restriction that Stiles was not pleased about at all; Scott promised that it was for the good of everyone and then acted as though he was forgiven without the words being spoken.

Isaac spent his time between Scott's house and Derek's loft, training with the werewolf pack and usually being coerced into being Stiles' guinea pig for magical spells. He didn't mind so much, since Stiles ended up buying him new Hermes scarves if he was injured.

A year into Stiles' self-paced learning, he accidentally turned Isaac into a tree for a day, and Scott and Deaton discovered what he'd been doing. They decided to redo the restrictions, believing that his powers were too great for him to be able to do a spell of that magnitude on his own. Derek took it upon himself to hide Stiles' staff, laptop, and the books that they had borrowed, taking them out to the forest where Scott and Deaton wouldn't find them. He returned home later that evening to find his home in disarray and all of his books scattered through the loft. Even his cookbooks hadn't been spared, and Derek spent the next three days resorting everything while Stiles slept off what had been done to him.

...

"C'mon, boss! You can hit harder than that!" Stiles taunted, his staff holding up against's Scott's werewolf-heavy arm.

Two years had passed since he'd been put under Scott's control; four years with the McCall pack overall, and he'd finally convinced Deaton to let him train with a staff. While Deaton had seemed suspicious about Stiles' staff, he agreed that the craftsmanship was well done, and told him a spell to ensure that it wouldn't break, no matter the weight that was put on it. Today was his first test after applying the spell, and Stiles was so fucking proud that his staff was holding up against a True Alpha's strength.

"Geez, Stiles; what've you got in that thing, wolfsbane and mistletoe bricks?" Scott asked, pulling away and rubbing his already-healing arm.

"Nah, boss. Just a few spells. Now, you've got to see what I've been working on. You'll love it," Stiles added with a grin, jogging over to his Jeep.

Derek was leaning against the hood, and pulled Stiles in for a quick kiss. "You sure they're ready to see it, Stiles?" he murmured softly.

"Yes. C'mon, big guy, you can come and see them be awed by my awesomeness," Stiles said.

He was proud of this spell. It had taken months of work, research, and blood, sweat, and tears (literally as well as figuratively) to get this spell to work, and Stiles wanted to see everyone's reactions. He wanted them to see this spell and think that maybe, just maybe, it was him all along, and they would lessen his restrictions.

Taking them off completely was a waste of time to hope for, Stiles knew that now. After the second lot of restrictions, he could barely hear the nogitsune, and if it wasn't for the fact that he was permanently stuck in a half-transformation, Stiles might even have forgotten it was in his head at all. Some nights, he was able to drown out the nogitsune's screams of pain, even if he woke with them on his lips most mornings.

Scott, Isaac, and Deaton looked sceptical when Stiles put a bag on the ground before them. That would soon change, he  _knew_  it. Stiles stepped forward, staff in hand, and tapped it on the ground. His eyes glowed white, his hands following suit, and the white shimmer encasing his staff as well. Stiles took the final step forward, concentrating and focusing with all of his might, and slowly lowered his staff into the empty bag. Where it should have stopped, it kept going, until the staff disappeared from sight completely, and the glow was enveloped in his bag. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving at the exertion of the new spell, and Stiles grinned up at them.

"What d'you think?"

Scott looked at the bag for a moment, his eyebrows bunched together as he frowned. "I think you looked like Mary Poppins, dude. It was neat and all, but you had some serious Mary Poppins vibes coming off there."

Stiles felt his heart plummet down past his stomach, and he nodded briefly, his mouth suddenly dry like sawdust.  _Of course he looked like Mary Poppins; why hadn't he thought of that himself_?

"Scott, Isaac, you've still got training to finish. Stiles, why don't you go home and work on those books I gave you instead of working on little projects like these?" Deaton added with a slight look of disapproval.

Isaac frowned as the other two headed towards the forest. "I thought you looked cool, Stiles. Kinda like Gandalf, yeah? If you can do something like that for one of my bags, I'd love to keep my scarves in there," he added with a broad smile, jogging after Scott and Deaton.

Stiles stood up and brushed off his knees. He ignored the nogitsune's laughter, faint though it was.

"Since I already finished the work Deaton gave me, let's go home and work on something else, shall we?" Stiles snarled. It wasn't a question.

Derek picked up Stiles' bag and gave a brief nod. He was tense, seething at the way Stiles had been treated by their supposedly benevolent Alpha. If it hadn't been for Isaac's comment soothing Stiles' pain somewhat, Derek probably would have killed Scott himself, and he was no longer worried that that response didn't concern him. Stiles' happiness as his anchor was essential to Derek's own happiness, and that's all that mattered to him. He could recognise that it was a bit twisted to think like that, but Derek honestly no longer cared.

When they arrived back at the loft, Stiles brought the staff back out of the bag, and started scouring the Internet for other Alphas in the area. Derek let him plan whatever it was that he was planning, and waited for Stiles to tell him his part in it all when he'd finished.

It didn't take long for Stiles to find what he was looking for, but it took a while longer to hash out the details properly. He needed more books and research to ensure that the hold over him could be broken, and time to gather the necessary ingredients to make sure it would work properly.

Nine months passed before they had all of the ingredients, and Derek sent a challenge out to a neighbouring pack. The pack agreed to the date to be set in three months' time, and Derek felt no qualms about knowing that the Alpha was being set up to die by his own hand.

Isaac was told about their plan a mere day before the pack were due to arrive. While he seemed worried about their ability to survive, Isaac still agreed to help them if Derek became Alpha again.

That night, Derek held Stiles close, just as he had the first time. When he felt Stiles shifting in his arms, he pulled back to look at him, trying to discern if he was all right, or having second thoughts.

"What are you thinking about, Stiles?" he murmured, unable to place the expression on Stiles' face.

"A riddle the nogitsune told me this morning," Stiles admitted, grinning at him. "I'll tell you tomorrow after we've survived all of this."

"Look forward to it," Derek murmured, rolling onto his back and pulling Stiles up so that he was laying on his chest. "Sleep now; you'll need your strength for tomorrow."

"Mmm. It's going to be an awesome day. Tell me again how you're going to kill Deaton; make it as bloody as possible," Stiles said with a yawn, resting his head on Derek's shoulder, his nose pressing against the curve of Derek's neck.

Derek grinned and started to detail the bloodiest and most gruesome death he could imagine. Stiles smiled contently, happiness washing over him as he let Derek's voice carry him off to sleep.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
